


Promise

by Findarato



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Fireworks, M/M, post-reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 16:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/pseuds/Findarato
Summary: "It had been Shion's idea to take part in this city's festival, which is some celebration of some forgotten deity…or maybe it's a summer celebration? He only remembers events that he's been invited to. But Shion has never attended anything outside of what No.6 has had to offer, and Nezumi still finds it a city lacking in character. There's change but change is slow, and it can't keep up with the vitality that is Shion. Here, the variety of patterned clothes, the many voices, the slight dissonance of different music all around them…it suits Shion better than No.6 ever would.Though, that isn't the only reason that he is out here today."Written for theNo.6 Zine, with the theme of "Reunion will come".





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really glad to have been part of a zine; the rest of it can be found [here](https://no6zine.tumblr.com/get)! Go check it out (and also the artist that did the illustration for this fic), there's a lot of amazing content :3
> 
> Many thanks to the mods for organising this, to Glittercracker for beta-reading, and bracari for the illustration ♥

**.**

The difference between a crowd and audience is that you are immersed in one, while the other one watches you. Nezumi prefers the latter, because crowds are huge, sluggish, loud…but here he is, in one yet again. At least–today–the press of people isn't oppressive, despite it being summer. There's worse places, as the Hunt had taught him. Back then, the crush was a slow suffocation and a training of the mind to be numb.

The only thing that is the same as that day is that Shion is beside him, constant and still bright-eyed, though his energy is more contained, because adulthood does that to people. That's not to say he is _reserved_. Shion's words trip over each other, as do his feet. He's the definition of elation and contentment, and maybe even charming. Nezumi's never considered himself to have a type, and Shion is still dreamy, wordy, and excessive. Shion is Shion, maddeningly so, and he has accepted this.

It's part of the reason why he's letting Shion literally tug him along in this crowd. It had been Shion's idea to take part in this city's festival, which is some celebration of some forgotten deity…or maybe it's a summer celebration? He only remembers events that he's been invited to. But Shion has never attended anything outside of what No.6 has had to offer, and Nezumi still finds it a city lacking in character. There's change but change is slow, and it can't keep up with the vitality that is Shion. Here, the variety of patterned clothes, the many voices, the slight dissonance of different music all around them…it suits Shion better than No.6 ever would.

Though, that isn't the only reason that he is out here today.

"It's interesting that I'm letting you lead me, when I'm the one who has actually been here before," he says, raising his voice slightly to be heard above the din. "I'm pretty sure we've walked this row twice."

Shion doesn't even turn, but Nezumi's sure he's making a face. "I know where I'm going—I wanted to do a second round."

"You're still bad at lying."

"Well, you go too fast if I let you walk in front of me."

Fair enough; he knows he wouldn't be meandering as much, seeing as he knew this place. "Fine, but we're stopping soon. I want to sit." It's not that he's tired, but he wants a good place before the fireworks start.

He nearly expects Shion to ask why, but Shion only nods. "Just one more row, then. I wanted to try that one place selling cupcakes…"

"If you must." The cakes aren't all bad, but eventually everything tasted the same.

Shion nearly trips again; Nezumi grabs his arm. "At least slow down, I know you're not used to these shoes."

"They're not so bad. But I can't understand how people can run in these."

"Practice. It's like heels."

Shion looks balefully at him. "You're not having trouble at all, are you?"

"Nope." Not the least bit. The shoes—and robes too—he's worn before. The only part he has trouble with is the belt, but at least he remembered to cross the fabric left over right, and told Shion the proper way lest he embarrass himself.

They continue on; Shion points at a cupcake covered in tiny jewels, and asks if they're real. Nezumi tells him no, they're made of sugar. He finds himself telling Shion how humans used to eat gold, and for a moment, he wonders if that was a better time. Or maybe they hadn't changed at all, seeing people are still trying, like with this cupcake. It's extravagant, he says.

"It's not all bad," Shion insists. "When food is beautiful, it tastes better. There's a psychological reason behind it."

"I didn't come here today to eat aesthetic psychological things, Shion." He wants something that isn't this sweet, airy nonsense. "Why are you so hungry today? Aren't you done growing? Or are you just gluttonous?"

"Nezumi!"

Laughing, Nezumi easily dodges the elbow aimed at his side and points a little ahead of them. "There's the bridge. We can sit there, and you can eat those cookies you bought when you thought I wasn't looking."

It never ceases to amuse him how easily Shion flusters still. Despite getting better with his reactions, well-timed words take them back to how they first met.

"I bought them for the both of us, so don't expect me to eat all of them myself."

"Really, now."

"They're spice cookies, so they're not too sweet."

"I'll have maybe two." Or more. Spiced things definitely were better.

There are a fair number of people on the bridge, but the space is more breathable than the streets.

They sit down, and Nezumi watches as Shion bites into a cookie

"It's good, Nezumi." Shion says around his bite.

"We'll see." He nibbles, flavour exploding on his tongue; hints of cinnamon and pepper and ginger, and something he can't place. "Not bad."

"See?" Shion starts on another cookie. "Would it be rude if I asked for the recipe?"

"Are you taking up baking?"

"No, I want to send it to my mother."

"It's probably not rude, then."

"Okay."

Nezumi finds himself eating another one, and he puts his hands in his lap so as to not take a third. "You're still writing letters every day to her."

"I don't want her to worry, that's all."

"But you can't even send them every day."

"Do you think I'm sending too many?" Shion swallows. "I know I've never done this…"

"No, it's fine."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"I don't know." Cayenne, that's the spice he couldn't remember at first. It stays on his tongue, and he drags it across his teeth.

"Is it because I never sent you letters?" Shion breaks his cookie in half, handing one half to Nezumi, who takes it but doesn't eat it.

"Shion, you _couldn't_ send me letters if you wanted to."

"And _you_ didn't send them at all."

"I guess I didn't." He's not a letter writer, or a journal keeper. He keeps his memories close, except what he chooses to sing. "I'm not cut out for writing."

"Really?"

"Just because I read, recite, and sing doesn't mean that I'm talented in everything, but thanks for the vote of confidence."

Shion rolls his eyes. "Very funny."

"That's not even a proper joke."

"Yes, but your sarcasm is always amusing."

"I'm glad you think so." Nezumi finally eats the cookie, flicking his fingers together to get rid of the remains. "But no one wants to read a letter full of wit. It'd be too much."

"That's like saying you're too much for me."

"Aren't I?"

"Nope." Shion leans in, so close that Nezumi can see the details of his pale eyelashes. "You're not too much. You're just right."

A tight feeling grasps at Nezumi's chest; he loosens it with a laugh. "Careful with your words, that sounds suggestive."

"Nezumi!"

He lets himself be nudged, before he settles himself more firmly against Shion's side. That's the second time today that Shion has said his name like that. "Thanks for the cookies. They weren't bad."

"I knew you'd like them."

"If you're saying you know all my tastes by now, you still have a long way to go."

"I don't mind it."

"Mind what?" Nezumi straightens his belt.

"If it takes a while to completely understand you. We have time."

But do they? What they're feeling right now might pass in ten years, or twenty. "And once you do, what's next?"

"Well, everything." Shion tilts his head. "It's not just your tastes. Don't you remember me saying I want to know everything and all about you?"

"And don't you remember me saying that your vocabulary was terrible? Did you even improve?"

"Of course I did."

"Not in confessions."

Shion looks away. "Well, I can't very well practice without someone there. It takes two for a confession"

Shion's words are a fact, not an accusation. They're beyond the years of waiting. "You already know plenty about me."

"Not enough if you still gain the upper hand."

"That's just the way I was born, sorry." Nezumi tweaks Shion's nose. "But you have your moments."

Shion snorts before grasping his hand, squeezing his fingers. "And you're great at teasing still."

Nezumi squeezes back. "Other people have begged to differ."

They could go on and on like this, for hours on end. They'd do it at night, until one of them fell asleep. Or in the mornings, one would poke the other awake and start all over again. Like a rhythm, a pattern of daily life. Routines, the mundane, are romantic to the sojourners and wanderers, and he is no exception.

Shion is eating yet another cookie, his gaze distracted by people crossing the bridge. Children dash by, scattering dust. A couple passes, their arms linked and shoulders bumping. Nezumi looks at them, and then back at Shion. A wind tugs at his translucent hair, which almost shimmers in the dark. It's beautiful, and Nezumi almost wishes that he did write, if only to capture this moment.

"Hey. Shion." His voice almost cracks, but his training and habit pull him through.

"Mhm?" People made the best faces when you caught them off-guard.

"This is the point where you should kiss me."

"E-eh?"

Previous statement retracted; they make the best faces when shocked. "I mean it. People kiss on bridges all the time. Look, there's even a full moon." He points. "It's romantic, if that hasn't occurred to you."

"I'm not that bad at reading signs, Nezumi." Shion wipes the crumbs away from his mouth and sighs. "Can't you give me some credit?"

"I will if you do it right now."

"Do you think I won't?" He leans in, their lips bumping almost painfully together.

Shion tastes like cookies, of course. No doubt, Nezumi himself tastes the same. There's still a dash of crumbs, and he licks away the slight grittiness when he pulls back. "That was a good kiss." He says this candidly, because he knows it will make Shion blush. "Almost as good as the one we had after reuniting."

"Almost? Not better?"

"Shion, nothing is going to be better than a return kiss."

"If you're going to say 'absence makes the heart grow fonder,' I'm going to leave you on this bridge." Shion huffs and pokes Nezumi in the side. "Why are you like this."

"Because you can't like me any other way." _And because you don't mind it. You get angry sometimes, but…_ "And because you can keep up with me."

"Can I?"

He tucks a strand of hair behind Shion's ear. "Yeah. You can."

"Did you think that even when you left?"

"I left for a lot of reasons, but you being inadequate wasn't one of them." Shion saved No.6 and saved Nezumi, but he thinks he's not good enough? How endearing. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

"I sometimes think I'm just dreaming…that I'll wake up and be back in No.6, waiting for you to come back." He hunches his shoulders. "I'm not dreaming, right?"

"It's not a dream, and I can assure you—" he joins their hands together in a tight grip, "with a confession of my own."

"What—"

"Shion." He bites down on the name, savouring it. "Keep kissing me. Keep trying. Keep waking me up in the morning. Keep persuading me. Keep showing me the kind of person you are. Keep trying to figure me out." Somewhere, he had tossed the script aside. This is dramatic, even for him. "Because I want to keep knowing you."

There's a crackling sound in the distance, then a brilliant flash of light. The fireworks are starting, as if they had waited for him to confess.

He waits.

"Nezumi…" Shion's eyes are bright, even as he shakes his head. "Can't you just say it the way people usually do?"

"That wouldn't be as interesting, Shion."

"Oh, please." His shoulders shake, and for a split second, Nezumi wonders if he's crying. However, the sound coming from him is laughter, hitched and shaky, but laughter nonetheless. "Instead of saying we'll meet again, you say reunion will come. Instead of saying you love me, you say you'll keep knowing me."

"So?"

"I've loved you for over six years. Of course I'll keep knowing you. Isn't that obvious?" Shion's fingers are so tight against his, they risk cutting off circulation.

"Just a little."

"Then—let me hear you say it. For real." _Please_ , Shion seems to whisper.

"Very well." Nezumi relents and puts his hand over his heart. "I swear this solemnly," a smirk, "by the light of the moon and fireworks as my witness, that I love you, Shion."

Whatever else he attempts to say is lost in the clamour of sounds and lights; Shion's hands have found their way to Nezumi's hair, tugging him down for another kiss.

Nezumi inhales deeply, cayenne tickling his nose at first, until Shion overwhelms him. He curls his arms against that frame, only slightly wider than his in the shoulders. This is hardly proper public conduct, but with everyone focused on the fireworks, they'll go unnoticed. Even if they're seen, they're just another passionate, love-struck couple lost in the moment.

That's partially true; Nezumi is filled to the brim with emotions. There's a want, desire for this moment to continue, until they've lost their need for air and the world and have only each other. It's almost melodramatic, but he doesn't care.

"Shion," he manages to say, when they finally pause. His lips are warm, as is the rest of him. "I won't leave you again." _I promise._

"I know." A flash of light, and Shion's violet eyes are perfectly illuminated.

**.end.**


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